Page 29 of Gryphon’s Fire

“Who else would it be?” Henry tugged on my hair as he urgently demanded, “Wake up, Keir. And while you’re at it, wake up the wyvern too.”

I pushed off Lazarus’s chest, my cheeks staining pink when I found those mesmerizing sapphire eyes cracked open and staring at me.

“What’s going on?” Lazarus asked, his words scratchy with sleep.

“I don’t know,” I answered. “Henry’s acting like there’s a fire somewhere.” Goddess help me if something else has happened.”

“The fire’s in your own damn house. Now, get up before the eggs hatch.” Henry swatted me again before scurrying away.

“The eggs?” Lazarus and I said in unison, both of us rising so fast we nearly fell off the couch. Rubbing my eyes, I knelt by the smoldering coals. “The aqua one is cracked.” As I said those words, the violet-colored egg followed suit. “Goddess, they’re really hatching.”

Lazarus’s hand found my shoulder, squeezing tight while Henry bounced from foot to foot. “Can’t believe we’re gonna have little wyvern flyin’ about. You think they’ll let me ride ’em?” Henry asked, his eyes round and wide with hope.

“Ride them?” I gasped. “You mean like⁠—”

“I mean just what I say and don’t look so horror-stricken. I don’t weigh that much and I miss flyin’ around. I haven’t gotten a chance to do that since Alethia…since she’s been gone.” The joy fled Henry’s voice, leaving his head hanging.

“It will be up to them,” Lazarus diplomatically answered.

“Fair enough.” Henry seemed satisfied. “Look, that one shimmied.” Henry made a little movement with his body that I assumed was meant to illustrate the point.

I leaned in, the coals warming my face to the point of discomfort. “Is there anything we need to do?” I asked Lazarus. “Do we need to pull away the eggshell or⁠—”

“Not yet. Most wyvern young are very good at exiting their shell. It may take some time as they tend to tire and need a bit of rest in between.”

I wasn’t sold. I desperately wanted to help. It would be so easy to pick at the shell to help the little kiddos out. I’d always considered myself a patient individual, but right now, that patience was nowhere to be found. If Henry’s constant fidgeting was anything to go by, he found the waiting equally challenging.

A thought suddenly occurred to me. “What form will they be in?” I’d just assumed it would be their wyvern form, but perhaps I was wrong.

“Wyvern,” Lazarus confirmed. “They will remain in that form for the first few decades of their lives.”

“Decades?” Why had I never thought to ask before? That type of information seemed vital right about now.

“Mm-hmm. Wyvern develop slowly but hatch fully capable of caring for themselves if necessary.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t certain how I felt about that. I’d romanticized the idea of caring for them, of Vidia’s offspring needing me, but the way it sounded, perhaps that wasn’t true. Would they skitter off to other parts of the compound, only coming back for sustenance?

Lazarus calmed my growing fears. “They can care for themselves, but that is not the preference of either parent or offspring. Abandoned wyvern young can survive but will never develop into their true potential and wind up being too wild to integrate into polite society. Wyvern young need supervision, love, and proper rearing to reach their full potential.”

This time, my “oh” sounded more like hope than reluctant acceptance.

“Hot damn! Look at that wee little claw.” Henry shifted closer to the burning coals, making me reach out and push him back.

“Careful,” I admonished.

Henry swatted my hand. “Pfft, a couple of singed eyebrows is worth it.” I couldn’t fault his enthusiasm and decided that Henry was a grown-up house dweller—perhaps even older than me—and could decide for himself.

A piece of the turquoise egg’s shell broke free, revealing a similarly colored leg. Four little clawed toes stretched out before flexing. The little wyvern repeated the actions a couple of times before stilling.

“They’re resting,” Lazarus reassured. “Hatching is exhausting work.”

“Will they remember their hatching?” I asked.

Lazarus was quiet for a moment before he answered, “Not as such. The memories will be more emotional feelings rather than images.”

I had no memory—emotional or otherwise—regarding my birth. Gryphons gave birth to live young as our reproductive organs were housed within our mammalian side. We were also born in our humanoid forms, not our gryphon ones.

“There goes the other one,” Henry keened. “Oh, this is excitin’. Best action I’ve seen in ages. Wish I had some of those roasted potatoes of yours, Keir. That’d make this whole ordeal a sight more enjoyable.”